You slip out the back.

The alley behind the shop is narrow, cluttered with refuse. Your ally leads you through a gap between buildings, around a corner, up a fire escape to the rooftops.

From above, you can see the shadow below, still watching the shop’s front door.

“There,” your ally whispers. “We wait.”

An hour passes. The shadow doesn’t move.

Then, as if receiving a signal, it turns and flows down the street. Not walking—gliding. A darkness that moves between pools of lamplight without ever touching them.

You follow across the rooftops, keeping parallel, using the city’s architecture as cover. Your ally moves with surprising grace—Kira’s guard training or Brother Aldous’s scholarly habit of watching without being seen.

The shadow leads you through the merchant district, past the still-smoldering ruins, into a part of Eldermoor you’ve never visited.

The old quarter.

Buildings here are ancient. Some predate the founding. Their stones are the same dark color as the hidden building you found on the back streets—the one with the mural of the founders.

The shadow stops before a building that shouldn’t exist.

It’s massive. A hall of some kind, its entrance flanked by columns carved with symbols you almost recognize. But you’ve walked these streets before. This building was never here.

Or you were never allowed to see it.

The shadow passes through the door without opening it. Darkness welcoming darkness.

“Varek’s headquarters?” your ally breathes.

“Or something older.” You remember the mural. The scratched-out face. The warning carved in stone. “Something from before he corrupted everything.”

The door is sealed—not with locks but with magic. Symbols glow faintly around its frame.

But as you approach, the symbols dim. Recognize something in you. And the door… opens.

“I think,” your ally says slowly, “this was meant for you.”